Swinging Flowers
by SpocksEyebrows
Summary: An independent business owner lives a fairly boring life where he struggles to meet his bills on time and sells flowers. He doesn't really have friends except for the pub owner Benny a few doors down but he's fine with that. Everything is as simple as blue sky in the summer until a man going by Jimmy crashes in riding on his breaking marriage and rusty accounting skills.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Anything originally written by the producers of Supernatural does not belong to me.

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Dean stared down at the spreadsheets on the counter and ran a calloused hand through his sandy-brown hair. He shoved his glasses up, letting out a disgruntled sigh, and trailed a finger down the writing-cluttered page. He hated thinking about the costs too much but when business was sluggish, he didn't have an excuse not to. Dean tossed his glasses onto the counter and slouched on his stool, wishing he'd bought a chair so he could lean back. He stared up at the ornate open sign wistfully, remembering when he'd first put it up, remembering how he thought it would be fun and easy to run a small business. Sadly, such was not the case.

The bell clanged as the door peeled open letting in a warm breeze from outside. A man walked in wearing business clothes, his tie a bit loose and a trenchcoat slung over one arm.

Dean picked his glasses up and hastily put them back on. "Looking for anything in particular?" he asked, standing up from his stool and realizing that his red tee-shirt was sticking to his back a bit.

The man looked over at him as if pulled out of summer daze, "Oh, yes, actually. Thing haven't been exactly… great between my wife and I lately and I was wondering what sort of flowers you get for that type of thing. You see, I'm not much good at this type of thing." The man shrugged nervously and shifted his coat to the other arm.

"Well," Dean said, moving from behind the counter, "I've got just the thing." Dean walked over to the flowers by the window and plucked a few from a bucket vase. "These here are wildflowers and…" he trailed off, glancing around before spotting what he wanted and moving towards them, "they look lovely in a bouquet with these irises and some greens."

The man nodded, "Whatever you say goes, like I said, I'm no good at this."

Dean walked back behind the counter and grabbed a sheet of cellophane from below the counter. As he began settling the flowers into an arrangement he glanced up at the man waiting in front of the counter, "I'm Dean, by the way," he said.

"Jimmy, I'm Jimmy," he said, watching Dean settle the flowers together.

He kept his eyes trained on his work but the corner of Dean's mouth hitched up a little, the name didn't fit this guy at all. "Do you want a vase?" Dean asked, looking up.

"No, I think they'll be okay like that. Or do women prefer vases?" Jimmy asked worriedly.

"I think you'll be okay with these," Dean said, allowing himself a small smirk.

"What?" Jimmy asked, "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Nothing," Dean replied, his eyebrows hiking up in defense.

"No, tell me, please? Are flowers too cliché?" Jimmy seemed to get nervous a lot, Dean noticed.

"Flowers are good, flowers are always good. You're gonna be fine." Dean said.

Jimmy let out a breath of relief and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, "How much do I owe you?"

"$32.67, please," Dean said, placing his store sticker on the ribbon holding the bundle together.

Jimmy tugged out the money and handed it over, taking the flowers in his hand, "Keep the change," he said, "And thank you for the help," he said gratefully.

"Not a problem," Dean replied, waving away the thanks, "that's what I'm here for." He grabbed a business card off the counter and handing it to Jimmy, "If you ever have any other trouble, here's my card. I do deliveries if it's a flower emergency," he said, smiling.

Jimmy smiled appreciatively, "Thank you, Dean, I expect you'll be seeing me again. Things haven't been the best lately."

"Well, best of luck, man," Dean said, waving goodbye as Jimmy walked out, waving goodbye to Dean through the window before heading up the street.

Dean pulled himself up onto his stool and turned his head back down to his finances when he noticed the little black square on the counter. He picked it up and opened it, already knowing whose it had to be. Sure enough, an ID inside read 'Jimmy Novak' in capital letters.

"Shit," Dean mumbled, folding the wallet and shoving it into his pocket. He rushed out into the sidewalk and started jogging up the street hoping to find Jimmy. He went up until the car spots ended and then let out a sigh of defeat. How the hell was he supposed to find the guy? He didn't have a number or address to find him at. Dean walked back down to the shop pondering what to do.

He tried to concentrate on doing his bills, simply hoping Jimmy would notice his missing wallet and come back. However, Dean watched as the sun set and the streets became vacant except for those out for late dinners and he finally had to admit to himself Jimmy wasn't coming back yet. Dean locked the front door and began the process of moving all his flowers into the back cooler room. He was moving the azalea's into the backroom when he heard a sharp tapping on the door. Dean glanced quickly at his watch, 9:17. Who could possibly want to buy flowers at this hour? He walked into the front of the shop, rubbing the flower water off into his green apron.

There was Jimmy, standing at the door, holding his trenchcoat over his head to shield from the summer rain. Dean quickly unlocked the door and swung it open, ushering Jimmy in.

"I think I, um-" Jimmy started.

"Yeah, you left your wallet here," Dean said, grabbing it off the counter and handing it to him.

"Ah, yeah, I guess I set it down to pick up the flowers. Thanks for keeping an eye on it, I suppose," Jimmy said, pocketing the wallet.

"How'd the flowers go?" Dean asked, noting the flecks of water that clung to Jimmy's hair and eyelashes.

Jimmy's shoulders slumped and he let out a disgruntled sigh, "Not too good, I think. Well, I mean, she accepted them and smiled and all that but I think I'm too late."

"What makes you say that?" Dean asked, pouring water into the lilies.

Jimmy watched him, his eyes slightly glazed, "I walked in and she was, well, she was having intercourse with our neighbor, Frank."

Dean stopped, looking up immediately, "No! That's awful!"

"Yes, well, I guess that's how some things are," Jimmy said but Dean could see the sadness in his eyes.

"What did she say when you caught her?" Dean asked, mentally admitting he was a bit curious.

"Nothing," Jimmy said and when Dean looked like he was about to say something, Jimmy spoke up, "Which is most likely because she didn't know I saw. I walked in, saw them, then I walked out. Drove around for awhile and came home and gave her the flowers."

"Dude, you've got to be kidding. You're going to let her get away with that?" Dean asked, what kind of person cheated on Jimmy? Jimmy seemed like the nicest person Dean had met in a while and he barely knew the guy.

"If she's happier with Frank, I should let her be happy, right?" Jimmy asked, leaning against the wall by the window.

Oh you have got to be kidding me, Dean thought, someone really had it in them to cheat on this guy? "Look," Dean said, "You seem like a really good guy and personally I think you deserve better than to have a wife who's having an affair. I think you need to let her know what you saw."

"Maybe," Jimmy said and for a moment Dean thought it actually looked like he was considering it, "I should go though. You probably want to get to bed and April will wonder what's taking me so long. I'll see you around, Dean."

"Yeah, see you around, Jimmy," Dean said, watching as Jimmy hefted his coat back over his head and walked out into the drizzling rain.


	2. Chapter 2

I.

The alarm beeped at exactly 7:00 that morning and Dean slapped the snooze button, sitting up and blinking his eyes blearily. He ran a hand through his tousled hair which only proved to make it stick up even more. He turned to stare out his apartment window, squinting against the sun. Dean reaches for his glasses on his side-table and shoves them up his nose. He clamores out of bed, slides into a pair of jeans, and then switches his old ACDC tee-shirt for a plain blue shirt. Scratching his stomach he slid his sockless feet into his worn pair of converse and headed out the door, snatching his keys off the hook as he went.

Dean jogged down the spiraling staircase and maneuvered himself throughout the flowershop before stepping out into the cool morning air. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and strolled down the sidewalk, watching as the birds began their day's song. When he reached the weathered wooden door he pulled it open and stepped inside letting the musky air wash over him.

"Hey, Dean," came Benny's drawling voice from behind the bar, "Come to help set up or just to take my food?" Benny looked up from where he was wiping the counter to send Dean a quick smirk.

Dean slid onto a barstool and rested his chin in his hand, "Just the food. I've got my own shop to set up later."

"I figured," Benny said, "Now get your elbow of the counter, I just wiped it down." Benny disappears into the back and Dean swings around on the stool, his eyes sweeping over the old pub he's spent too many mornings in.

Benny comes back out with a plate of eggs and toast and sets it down in front of Dean. "What, no drink?" Dean says, "Awful service, man."

Benny rolls his eyes and begins wiping down the glasses on the shelf, "How's business?"

Dean swallows his bite and clears his throat, "Shit, mostly. Can barely keep up with the bills these days." He forks another bit of egg and crams it into his mouth.

"You need yourself an accountant," Benny says and Dean honestly can't tell if he's serious or not. Benny seemed to sense this for he looked up from his work and said, "I'm serious, man, you can't keep running that place on the money you barely make."

Dean rolls his eyes and takes a bit of the cooling toast, "I can handle myself. This is my fourth year running that place, it's not going anywhere." He pulls his phone out of his pocket and flips it open, scrolling through his missed calls. A few from Sam, probably wedding nerves, one from Lisa Braeden, his business neighbor, and one from an unknown number. "Hey," he says holding the phone up, "you seen this number before?"

Benny squints his eyes to read it and then shakes his head, "Nah, haven't seen it."

Dean chuckles, "You really need to get yourself some glasses. Right down the street is Master's Optometry, why don't you go there?"

Benny shakes his head, "I don't need glasses, I'm fine." But Dean watches as his eyes squint again just to put the glass on the right shelf.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that…" he trails off, clicking a button to listen to the voicemail from Sam.

"Hey Dean, just wondering, do you think you could come by next Wednesday for a tux fitting? It's some obscure place out here so you may as well stop by the house and Brady, you, and I will all drive together. I hope that's not too out of your way. Also, I wanted to run my vows by you again. I know you just listened to them the other day but I made some changes and-" Dean clicks off the voicemail since he knows Sam could ramble on for days about planning.

Next he opens up the voicemail from Lisa, "Hi Dean, it's Lisa. I was just wondering if you were available tonight to watch Ben. I'll only be gone for a couple hours, six to eight, and you could just watch a movie with him. Sorry for the late notice, I was supposed to meet with my accountant next week but he called and said he can only do tonight. That's all, lemme know if you can. Thanks!"

"That Lisa I heard?" Benny asks, slinging his towel over his shoulder.

Dean nods absently while he types a quick reply saying he'd be happy to watch Ben.

"See, she has an accountant. She knows what's smart. Maybe she should introduce you to her accountant," Benny says.

"Yeah, whatever. I do just fine on my own, thank you," Dean, wipes his napkin across his mouth and then drops it onto the plate. He glances at his watch that reads 9:02, "I should head out and get the shop ready to open. I'll probably see you later for a beer though," Dean says and slides off the barstool.

"Alright, good luck with business today," Benny says waving shortly before disappearing into the backroom.

It's only halfway up the sidewalk that Dean remembers the unknown number that called his phone. He flicks the phone open and sure enough, there's an unopened voicemail left. He clicks onto it and holds the phone up to his ear, pausing on the sidewalk.

"Hello, this is Jimmy. I bought some flowers from you last night and I'm afraid I'm in need of more. Do what you want with the arrangement, you seem to know more about it than I. Could you deliver them tonight, around seven? My address is 118 Nyton Lane. Thank you."

Dean lets out a low breath, he can't believe this guy is going to give his cheating wife more flowers. Shouldn't she be the one buying flowers? Despite this, when he returns to his shop he scrawls the address onto a slip of paper and pins it to the bulletin board. It's been awhile since he's done deliveries what with business being slow lately so it'll be nice to get back out again. Dean honestly can't remember the last time he really went anywhere.

He starts moving the pots of flowers from the cooler room to the front of the store and he clicks the computer on, watching as the first thing to appear is his unfinished finance chart from yesterday. With a heavy sigh he turns away from the image of incompletion and moves to hang up the open sign, hanging the closed sign off his wrist. He unlocks the front door and sets the closed sign behind the counter before taking his place on the stool.

Dean stared blankly at the chart he really should be filling out before reaching under the counter and pulling out a sudoku booklet and grabbing a pencil. He's staring intently at an upper-left box while biting the end of his pencil when he hears the door chime. Startled from his quiet bubble he nearly falls off the stool and looks up. It's Jimmy.

He sets down his pencil in the seem of the sudoku book and steps around the counter, leaning back against it, "I thought you were looking for a delivery today?"

"Yes, well, I thought so too but I was just wondering, do you think jewelry would be better?" Jimmy seemed to sense how the question sounded or maybe he just noticed Dean's raised eyebrows, "I'm not asking you as a customer, your flowers I wonderful and I don't doubt them, I'm asking a troubled married man. Would jewelry work better?"

Dean stared at Jimmy incredulously, why was this guy so persistent on buying things for his cheating wife? "Jimmy, if you don't mind my asking, why exactly are you even buying flowers and jewelry for your wife? Are you hoping to impress her? Because she's sleeping with someone else, you know that."

Jimmy's shoulders sagged and stared at the ground, scuffing his shoe against the other shoe, "I don't know. I guess I just want her to like me. She was my highschool sweetheart. I thought it would work out."

Dean clapped a hand on Jimmy's shoulder, trying to ignore how warm his shoulder was and the fact that he was in contact with the guy, "Look, I don't think you need to force her to like you. You're a really good guy, okay? I mean, I've hardly known you twenty-four hours and already I can tell you're a good person. Who else buys nice things for a wife who isn't exactly faithful? I think all you need is a drink, man." Dean gives him another pat on the shoulder before retracting his hand.

Jimmy looks up and all Dean can see are such open eyes, "Are you asking me to get a drink with you?"

Dean can't tell if Jimmy is implying that Dean is asking him out or not so he just goes with the friendly approach, "Well, I know a place and I figure I've been through a pretty crap time of your life with you, which should make us pretty close automatically. So, yeah, as your new friend, I'm taking you to get a beer," Dean looks Jimmy over, "or two."

Jimmy's lips spread into a relieved smile, "Yeah, I guess I could use a few."

II.

"Accountant, huh?" Benny asked, resting his arms on the bartop, "Dean could use one of those."

"Well, I wouldn't say that. I do just fine," Dean said drinking down the remnants of his beer.

"It's pretty boring work, to be honest," Jimmy said, rolling his bottle in his hands, "I work for a law firm, just keeping track of the books. I'd rather be doing anything else, really."

"What would you prefer to be doing?" Dean asked.

"Writing, I think. I used to be an English major but then I met my wife, April, and it seemed like writing might not be the stable job we'd need." Jimmy cast his eyes down at the floor as if this was something to be embarrassed by.

"Two beers," someone called from down the bar sending Benny walking away.

"What agency are you working for right now?" Dean asked.

"Krushnic Law," he replied.

"No way!" Dean said, "My brother works for that firm. Sam Winchester, you know him?"

"Oh yeah, I know Sam," Jimmy said, "Good guy. He nearly always wins his cases."

"So tell me more about April, what made you fall for her in the first place?" Dean really was curious, so far he hadn't heard anything good about April.

"We went to Yale together and met senior year.. She was a law major and I was an English major. Her class was doing a mock-case and I volunteered to take the notes. We, um, we hooked up after. Which I realize sounds like a pathetic start to a relationship but that's how it went," Jimmy said, gulping down another swig of beer, "I asked her out the next week and she said no. So I waited a week and asked her out again, she said yes. We got married soon after graduating," Jimmy recounted it like a script, his voice flat and emotionless.

"Jesus, man, you make her sound like demon," Dean said, letting out a slow chuckle.

Jimmy shrugged half-heartedly, "Maybe she is. What about you?"

"What about me?" Dean shot back.

"You got anyone?" Jimmy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dean cleared his throat nervously, "Nah, not really. I had someone, for a bit. That's done now though," he looked up at Jimmy through his eyelashes before proceeding, "He was kind of an ass." He watched Jimmy's face closely, gauging his response.

Instead of the big 'oh you're gay?' Dean was expecting, Jimmy nodded slightly, "Well, good on you for leaving him. At least you're not like me, I'm too pathetic to walk away from a marriage I'm pretty sure snapped years ago."

"You're not pathetic. You're just comfortable. You've been with April for a long time, sometimes it takes time to leave people that you've grown accustomed to," Dean said, pushing down any memories that would make everything a lot more uncomfortable.

Jimmy just looked at him, a slightly curious furrow in his eyebrows, "Were you comfortable with the relationship you had?"

Dean's eyes widened as all those memories banged around in his head, "Yeah," he managed, his voice a bit hoarse, "I was used to it. We lived together and I helped him with his career, this was before the flower-shop. He was a chef, Theo was. He was in the process of opening his own restaurant. I was helping," Dean stared into his empty bottle as if the story was stuffed in there.

"Did you guys ever open it?" Jimmy asked.

"Not sure. I left him before he opened it. I assume he has by now though. Theo wasn't the type of guy to let things get in his way. Which, evidentially, included me when it came down to it. I didn't have any financial help for him and I didn't know how to cook or do anything in relation to restaurants so he left me."

"Wow, he does sound like an ass," Jimmy said, wrenching the cap off another bottle and passing it to Dean.

"Thanks," Dean mumbled, examining the pub around him. People laughed and shared drinks. Couples sat closely in the small booths and some woman was flirting with Benny. Dean smirked, she wasn't going to get anywhere, Dean knew who Benny really loved.

"I should head out," Jimmy said, bringing Dean out of his trance, "I've got a few things to do at the firm today."

"Yeah, no problem, I'll see you around seven with the flowers," Dean said as Jimmy slid off his stool.

"See you then," and he was gone.

III.

Bzzzzzt!, Dean smashed his finger against the doorbell once again. The door swung open to reveal Lisa dressed in a business suit. She owns wedding planning agency and Dean honestly can't remember the last time he saw her in casual clothes.

"Ten minutes early, you're good, Dean," she said, putting in a pair of earrings.

"Hey, best babysitter on the block," he says smiling as she ushers him inside.

"Right, well Ben had dinner already and he's hanging out in the living room right now. I told him you guys could rent a movie from the cable thing so I think he picked one out. I'll be back around eight, sound good?" Lisa said, slipping into a pair of black heels.

"Not a problem. I've got to make a delivery tonight so I might take him with me to drop off the flowers, if that's alright," Dean says, leaning against the arm of a chair.

"'Course it's alright," Lisa replies, grabbing her keys from the hook, "I'll see you later. Be good for Dean, Ben!" she calls out and then she's gone, the door slamming shut behind her.

Dean walks into the living room where he finds Ben flicking through channels, "You want to help make a delivery with me tonight?" he asks.

"Sure," Ben says, standing up from the couch, "We'll still have time to watch a movie after, right?"

"Definitely," Dean promises, watching as Ben slips into a pair of sneakers.

IV.

"Is this it?" Ben asks as they pull up in front of skinny townhouse.

"Yeah, this is the place," Dean replies, parking his car, "Can you hand me the flowers from back there?" Ben passes the flowers up and they step out of the car, making their way up the walkway.

"Who lives here?" Ben asks, "It's kind of a boring house. I've never seen a gray house before."

"Neither have I but here one is. Don't worry though, the guy who lives here isn't boring," Dean says and sees Ben shrug out of the corner of his eye.

Ben presses the doorbell and they hear it's mute ring coming from inside the house. The dull thump of footsteps makes it's way to the door and then it's swung open. Jimmy, Dean realizes, looks very good in jeans and a tee-shirt.

"Ah, thank you so much," Jimmy says, handing the money over to Dean and taking the flowers, "They look great, as I expected."

"Not a problem. I hope April enjoys them," Dean says a bit sarcastically.

"Who's at the door?" comes a slightly shrill voice from inside the house.

Jimmy winces, "A delivery man."

Quick footsteps signal April approaching and soon she's shoved herself into the doorway next to Jimmy, "Who are you?" she asks, looking from Dean to Ben.

"I'm Dean," he says, "I own the flower-shop on Mainstreet. This is my godson, Ben."

April examines them and Dean wants to flinch, "Hm. You were the one who sold Jimmy the flowers yesterday, I assume. You charged him a lot of money, I saw the receipt. Thirty dollars for flowers? That's ridiculous."

"It's a dying business," Dean defends, "And flowers cost a lot to maintain."

"Uh-huh, I'm sure that's what you tell everyone who buys from you. Jimmy probably already payed you otherwise I definitely wouldn't give you my money," she says, "Well, I guess they're nice enough," she says, taking the flowers from Jimmy and disappearing into the house.

Dean raises his eyebrows at Jimmy, "Damn."

"I know, I know," Jimmy says, "Don't say it. Thanks for the flowers, they were really nice, April is just a tough critic."

"Right, I'll see you around then," Dean says, beginning back down the pathway.

"See you around," Jimmy calls to their retreating backs before closing the door and venturing into his house.

As they're getting into the car Ben says quietly, "She's scary."

"I hear you there, buddy," Dean says and as they're driving away he can't help but feel sorry for Jimmy.


End file.
